


The Lady of Evenfall

by aliveanddrunkonsunlight



Series: drunk on sunlight [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tarth, happily married with kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveanddrunkonsunlight/pseuds/aliveanddrunkonsunlight
Summary: Even as they waited, all of them impatient to greet her, he could barely take his eyes off of her. He had long seen her as beautiful, even though she did not view herself as such, but she carried herself differently than she did before.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: drunk on sunlight [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416598
Comments: 31
Kudos: 157





	The Lady of Evenfall

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to add this one to my Tarth series, although in this fic it's a completely new universe from the prior two. Mainly I wanted to group all my Tarth based one shots together.
> 
> Thank you to Cerulean_Phoenix7 for the quick beta! Also my personal headcanon for this is Jaime and Brienne spend their first few years of marriage living at Evenfall with Selwyn, so he gets to know his first grandchild, and Jaime gets to see what a loving parent-child relationship looks like (between Selwyn and Brienne.)

Jaime spent the morning giving orders to the household staff. I’m becoming quite the Lady of Evenfall, he thought with a wry grin.

When he and Brienne chose to settle on Tarth, he knew there would be frequent travel to the mainland. His wife had become a trusted advisor to Sansa during the War of the Three Queens, and now that war was over, the Queen in the North still sought Brienne’s advice. Her fairness and kindness found others writing often to seek her opinion as well, his brother and Jon Snow among them.

Despite the Seven Kingdoms’ frequent desire for her valuable counsel, she focused most of her energies at home, taking up the duties of Evenstar with a vigor Jaime previously only saw from her in the sparring yard. He knew she wanted to please Selwyn. Her father was her guiding star, even if he was no longer there. His gracious spirit and practical wisdom lived on in his daughter.

And it lived on in Selwyn’s grandchildren. Their sons.

After Jaime was assured the house was in order for his wife’s arrival, he dressed himself first and then visited the children, making sure their maid did not need a hand. When he peeked his head into the nursery, Arthur was dragging around the cart the butcher carved for him. It was supposed to attach to the wooden horse, but no doubt it was tangled in his bedsheets. The boy often slept with it under his arm. Their maid Lowri sat by the window, Jonah on her lap, as he watched his brother curiously. Arthur was dressed in azure and gold, almost an exact replica of an outfit Jaime owned. Jonah wore a simple crimson tunic and brown breeches. “Thank you, Lowri,” Jaime smiled at the young girl as he stepped into the room. “You may take your meal. I will get them down to the docks.”

“Are you certain, my Lord?”

He nodded, scooping Jonah off her lap and hoisting him high into the air, which made the boy giggle in delight. “I am. Thank you for your help these past weeks.”

“Of course, my Lord,” she replied, ever courteous, but he noted the hint of blush in her cheeks.

“Arthur?” Jaime called to his eldest. The boy had either not heard him or chose not to hear him and continued playing. “Arthur,” he tried again, settling Jonah onto his hip. “Do you know who will be at the docks today?”

The docks were his son’s favorite place to visit. He loved watching the ships come into the bay, the fluttering of the sails, the thick ropes traveling through the sailors’ hands as they tied up at the docks, and the shouts of the captain before the crew was allowed to come ashore. “Dock,” Arthur repeated, looking up at him.

“That’s right. Mama will be there.”

Arthur’s green eyes lit up at the mention of Brienne. “Mama!” He threw himself towards Jaime, his arms wrapping around his leg.

“I know, you’ve been missing her.” He reached down to stroke his son’s hair, as bright as straw. Brienne insisted Arthur would grow to be the spitting image of his father, but Jaime saw her in him. His hair, yes, but the way his eyes grew wide, the way a smile stretched across his face. Jonah was named after Jaime’s mother, but carried traits of Brienne as well, most notably her eyes and freckles, but the boy had wavy hair like Jaime’s own. Brienne was loathe to cut it, instead allowing it to grow wild, soft strands curling around the boy’s neck.

*

It was the longest time Brienne had been away since Jonah was born. When she stepped out on the deck of the ship, his heart stopped. If not for Arthur, who was clapping his hands excitedly, Jaime would’ve allowed himself to get wrapped up in the emotions of seeing his wife again. Even as they waited, all of them impatient to greet her, he could barely take his eyes off of her. He had long seen her as beautiful, even though she did not view herself as such, but she carried herself differently than she did before.

He wondered how he had missed it. She was regal, sure of herself. A confidence he found as attractive as the innocence that had first drawn him to her. But the shift did not make her hard. A softness still bloomed in her face, unable to hide her genuine warmth even now as she bore more responsibility.

Her gaze found them as she waited for the ship’s gangplank to be lowered. Even from a distance, he could see her smile and hoped she could see his. She ignored the proffered helpful hands of the crew, preferring to exit on her own. Her cloak billowed behind her in the wind, her long legs striding up the slight hill to where they stood. Arthur launched himself into her arms and her face broke into a wide grin. “I missed you,” she cooed into his ear, holding him close. His chest swelled with pride. This was his _wife_. A magnanimous leader, a loving mother, and one who loved him for who he was, who viewed him as her equal. Brienne glanced up at Jaime, their eyes meeting, and his heartbeat quickened. He wondered if she could see the love pouring out of him, the love he no longer had to stifle behind oaths or honor, but a love he was able to share with her every day, a love he liked to demonstrate, as much as it made Brienne blush deeply.

She stepped towards him, Arthur’s hand in hers, as she pressed a kiss to Jonah’s forehead, and rifled her fingers through his curls. Brienne smiled at Jaime, a teasing lilt in her voice as she asked, “How have things been at home, my lord husband?”

“Very orderly, my lady wife.” He wanted to extend his hand to her, but it was firmly wrapped around their son. “I missed you,” he whispered softly. Brienne reached towards him then, her hand traced the line of his face, her fingertips lifted his jaw slightly. He pressed into her, kissing her softly, balanced on his toes. She laughed against his mouth.

“You have your hands full,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw. “Here, let me take Jonah.”

The four of them walked back up the hill towards Evenfall, Arthur racing ahead and Brienne’s steward trailing behind. She balanced Jonah against her hip and reached for Jaime’s left hand. He twined their fingers together, reveling in the warmth of her palm against his.

Once they got the boys settled--getting Jonah down for a nap and Arthur’s play supervised by Lowri--Brienne wished to change out of her traveling clothes and Jaime followed her upstairs to their chambers. Her trunk has already been delivered to a corner of the room and she pulled out a plain, off-white tunic and a dark pair of breeches. She unclasped her traveling cloak from her shoulders and tossed it onto the end of the bed. Jaime watched without saying a word, but as she stripped off her clothes, her pale, supple skin exposed, he could not resist drawing closer. His chest pressed into her back and she let out a soft chuckle. “Jaime,” she tried to object, but his arms wrapped around her and she leaned into his touch, a sigh escaping her lips. There was a bruise coloring her shoulder. He traced his fingertips along it, pressed a kiss to it.

“You were sparring without me?” he asked, teasing.

“You know that Pod likes to practice when I visit,” she replied easily.

His hand roamed lower, eliciting a gasp from her lips when he touched her breast, running a thumb across her nipple. He turned her in his arms, he wanted to kiss her, to trail his mouth down her neck, to draw those soft moans from her which he loved so much. As he spun her around, Brienne’s arms crossed protectively over her stomach. Jaime frowned. His gaze settled on her face, where her blue eyes betrayed her uncertainty. “Are you all right? I missed you, but we don’t…” She dropped her arms before he could finish his sentence and he noticed the slight swell of her stomach. He nearly dropped to his knees in shock. His gaze flickered back up to hers, eyes widening. “Are you?”

She nodded, biting her lip, and his gut wrenched. He had not seen her this nervous since she told him she was carrying Arthur. Uncertain he would want a child with her, scared of becoming a mother, how it might change her. Jaime was unclear what trepidation she might be feeling now, but it was plain, she was not happy.

“My love, what’s wrong?” He cupped her face in his hand, longing to soothe her worries. “I am so happy. With you, with our life, our family.” Tears glistened in her eyes and she nodded, chin quivering. “But you do not feel the same?”

“No, of course I do.” She shivered under his touch and he moved away from her for a moment to grab the tunic she chose and pulled it over her head, not wanting her to catch cold. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

“Brienne,” he prompted gently, wanting to hear her concerns. They had promised each other long ago to never mask their feelings for the sake of the other. The honesty between them served their marriage well.

Still, she was hesitant. “I love you,” Brienne whispered.

“I never doubt it,” he replied, squeezing her hand.

“I worry that with my duties, I am putting the burden on you to care for our children. I know you say it’s not a burden, but I want to be there. I don’t want to glance around and realize Arthur is nearly grown and Jonah right behind and the little one,” she touched her stomach lightly. “I want to watch him grow up. And not feel as if I’m always stuck behind closed doors, listening to my small council argue, or knowing Tarth’s citizens better than my own family.”

“You are there for them,” Jaime insisted. “I have seen it.” He wanted to say his own father had been away far more than she ever was. Their children were lucky. “And when our children grow older, they will see what a just leader their mother is.” She gave him a watery smile. “But I hear your concerns and we will address them. Together. All right, my lady?” He kissed her hand. “And our children are never a burden to me. They are a blessing. Truly. I scarcely deserve half so much happiness.”

“Jaime,” she warned. “You do.”

He kissed her then, hand sliding into her hair, and Brienne responded in kind. Soft, sweet kisses at first, which turned hungry, hands gripped in the fabric of his shirt. He guided her towards the bed, relishing in the weight of her body pressed against his, as he kissed and nipped at her neck.

They lay together afterwards, chests rising and falling together, Jaime murmured happily against her skin. He slid his hand over her stomach and she stilled under his touch. “A girl,” he said, hopeful.

She laughed and the sound brought him comfort. They could figure out whatever challenges lie ahead together. “That’s what you said about Jonah.”

Jaime had been so set on her carrying their daughter, they had only bothered to pick out a girl’s name: Joanna. The name shifted to the masculine when the babe turned out to be their younger son. He had cried when Brienne placed the small bundle in his arms, just as he had with Arthur, and which he would likely do again with their third child.

“If you wish this child to be the last,” he offered. “I can-”

Brienne’s hand covered his lips, but she was smiling. “We’ll see, my lord husband.”


End file.
